Every little thing they do is mellower now, but fans are as well

The denizens of Wrigleyville, accustomed to bars and baseball, are choosy when it comes to rock shows, unwilling to let a band with overly raucous followers invade their friendly confines.

So when The Police's reunion concert arrived Thursday night at Wrigley Field, there was excitement but not mania, a comfortable buzz but a distinct lack of edginess.

Emily Ferrell, 22, a bicycle cab operator, surveyed the largely 30-something fans heading into the concert and gave the following assessment:

"This crowd is a little more calm than the baseball fans. It's not as drunk and it's not as rowdy. I feel like it's more suburban too."

That's enough to make any so-called rock star weep.

The band's fans may have been wild when lead singer Sting was young and first entered "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da" into the rock 'n' roll lexicon, but they're now more mini-van than mosh pit.

Sting himself has mellowed: His last album featured him plucking out 16th Century music on a lute, for heaven's sake.

And the actual police, in the ultimate affront to any self-respecting rock band, predicted crowd behavior at the Thursday and Friday night gigs like this:

"It should be very orderly, just based on the demographics of the concert-goers," said police spokeswoman Monique Bond. "We're not anticipating any problems."

The Police are the second major act to play Wrigley Field since 2005. The first was Jimmy Buffett, who drew crowds that are more aging drunk than aging punk. In each case, the stadium owner's concert plan had to be approved by the City Council.

"I think the Cubs have been sensitive in terms of the artist, having a certain type of band with a certain following, maybe a little older, more mature crowd," said Ald. Thomas Tunney, who represents Wrigleyville and supported the concerts. "I think they've been very careful to make sure that they're respectful to the neighborhood."

Wrigley Field and the Cubs are owned by Tribune Co., which also owns the Chicago Tribune.

Tunney said people with decibel meters were posted at about five locations in Wrigleyville on Thursday afternoon while sound checks were being done at the ballpark. Their job was to make sure the band's volume was preset at an acceptable level.

The private security firm hired by the Cubs to assist at the concerts -- which will draw nearly 80,000 people over two nights -- was scheduled to work until 2 a.m. to ensure that those who don't have to rush home to relieve the baby-sitter aren't reveling too much.

And, Tunney noted, the concerts, which will net the Wrigleyville community about $150,000, were intentionally scheduled during a holiday week when many residents are out of town.

Not that they would have had much to complain about.

The fans who came to see one of the seminal bands of the 1980s reunite filed politely into the ballpark Thursday evening, many with their teenage kids in tow.

Marianne Malaychuk of Chicago was a huge Police fan in the band's heyday. She has managed to get her son, Michael, 14, hooked as well.

"It's nice to be able to find some music we can both enjoy," she said.

Tania Wisbey of Rockford first saw The Police in 1979. She paid $14 for the ticket to that show. A mere 28 years later, she was thrilled at the chance to see the band again, even though this ticket cost her $125.

"I don't feel that much older, but now I have two kids," Wisbey said.

The biggest difference since she last saw the band?

"You can't buy The Police on vinyl anymore."

The greatly outnumbered younger set seemed enamored by the kitsch value of seeing a "legendary" rock band.

"We like classical rock," said Nicole Gregory, 15, a Lakeview High School student born 15 years after The Police released their first single. "The bands I like are either dead or broken up."

At the moment, The Police are neither, as evidenced by the buckets of money their reunion concert is making.

"On a worldwide basis, it's the tour of the year," said Gary Bongiovanni, editor of the concert trade publication Pollstar. "It's over the top."

Hey, if the Rolling Stones can do it, why not the comparatively youthful Sting and company?

"It's like any other band that's been around as long as they have," Bongiovanni said. "Their audience has gotten older with them."

That brings us to Karen Kadlecik, 36, and her good friend Geni Hendershot, 37. They were both in high school when The Police were the biggest band around.

"Back then I would've been wearing fluorescent everything," said Kadlecik, waxing nostalgic.

"I would've had a big bow in my hair," Hendershot added. "We would've thought we were so cool."

Now Kadlecik manages a jewelry store in Elgin and stays away from neon. Hendershot is a diabetes-care specialist and had no bow in her hair.